Chapter 35 Nia
Nia
“THE UNWANTED HEIR SPOTTED FLEEING THE CASTLE. WHAT DOES IT MEAN?” —THE DOVER CENTENNIAL
Nia had been pacing for ten minutes, Lochlan’s note crumpled from how tightly she’d gripped it. Her bare feet made soft sounds against the hardwood floor as she moved in relentless circles. Jade’s bright eyes followed her from the couch, the dog’s head tilted in quiet curiosity.
Three days. That’s how long it had been since he’d left, and she had hated every second of it—more than she’d thought possible.
And now this: a note, cryptic and devoid of the details she craved.
I’m coming back.
“I don’t even know if this is good or bad!” Nia muttered, her frustration bubbling to the surface. She waved the note at Jade as if the dog might provide answers. Jade’s ears perked, but she remained lounged on the couch.
Nia sighed and raked a hand through her hair, then grabbed her phone to check the train station schedule again. She’d already memorized it, but still, she scanned the screen. He was either arriving soon or at midnight. There was no way to know for sure.
Lochlan hadn’t texted her back and she hated that, too—the way her chest tightened every time she glanced at her phone, the way her thumb hovered over the screen, waiting for a response that didn’t come.
It wasn’t like her to be like this, tethered to someone else’s timeline or absence.
She was strong. Independent. She’d spent years building herself into the kind of woman who didn’t need anyone.
Sure, maybe she had a dependency on food delivery services.
And, yes, she’d grown to like having Lochlan around, with his quietly steady presence that made the house feel full, that made her old life feel lonely.
But she wasn’t going to just sit here waiting and worrying.
Jade let out a low whine, as if sensing her spiraling thoughts. “I know, I know,” Nia murmured, stopping long enough to scratch the dog behind her ears. “But I can’t mope here like some kind of lovesick fool hovering over my phone.”
Even as the words left her mouth, she wasn’t sure she believed them. She did want to be there when he got home. She wanted to see him walk through the door. She wanted to know if he was okay after whatever he’d faced in Dover.
She wanted to know if they—if she and Lochlan—were okay.
Her chest tightened again. If she stayed, she’d drive herself mad overthinking, rehearsing conversations that might never happen. She needed a distraction.
She shot off a quick text:
Me
Heading out for a bit. If you’re home before I’m back, find me at Salt.
Then, just in case, she grabbed a scrap of paper and wrote a short note and the address, leaving it on the counter where he’d be sure to see it.
Satisfied—or pretending to be—Nia snatched her leather jacket from the hook near the door and pulled on her boots.
She turned to Jade, who was watching her with big, soulful eyes.
“You’ve been fed, the TV is on, you’ll be fine, right?” Nia asked, though she already knew the answer. She patted the dog’s head anyway, the motion soothing. “Watch the house while I’m gone, okay? Bite your dad when he gets home for making me worry.”
Jade gave a little huff, her tail thumping a few times against the couch cushion.
With a deep breath, Nia stepped out into the cool evening air.
Her boots struck a steady rhythm against the pavement, her steps quick and purposeful.
She left the polished charm of the historic district behind, turning into a quiet lane lined with shuttered businesses and back entrances.
She liked this part of Stella Rune—the edges where people came to lose themselves for a while, to slip away from the polite smiles and carefully trimmed hedges of the town center.
Here, it was wild but comfortable, and nothing needed to be hidden.
Halfway to the club, a strange sensation washed over her.
It started as a whisper of unease, a flicker at the fringe of her awareness as she reached the edge of downtown.
She slowed, her eyes sweeping the street.
The glow of the neon signs reflected off the damp pavement, but their colors felt muted, the shadows around them deeper.
She glanced at a nearby alley. The darkness filling it seeming to breathe, to shift in a way that made her skin prickle.
Her hand brushed against the inside pocket of her leather jacket, feeling the edges of the envelope tucked safely inside. She had done this before—countless times. She knew the power of leverage, how to wield it for good even when it meant walking dangerous lines.
Still, her fingers tightened around the envelope.
The sound of footsteps echoed faintly behind her, matching her own in a way that felt too precise, less like an echo, and more like she was being followed. Nia stopped, her breath catching in her throat as she turned to scan the street behind her.
Nothing.
The sidewalks were empty and the faint hum of traffic in the distance was the only sound. She searched the shadows, her heart pounding faster, her grip on the envelope tightening as she turned back toward the club.
“Get it together,” she muttered under her breath, forcing herself to keep walking.
The club’s sign came into view, its garish neon spilling onto the street in a cascade of electric pink and green.
The sight loosened the knot of fear in her chest, the familiar buzz of the place pulling her forward.
She focused on the steady rhythm of her boots, the warm chaos of the club ahead offering an escape from the gnawing unease still clinging to her.
As she reached the door, a flicker of movement caught her eye.
She glanced back over her shoulder. In the distance, a figure jogged toward her.
For a moment, her pulse quickened as a prickle of fear crawled up her spine.
Then the man stepped under a streetlamp, his features illuminated by the warm, steady light.
Dark hair, broad shoulders, the easy, loping stride. A man she would now recognize anywhere.
Relief flooded her, stealing her breath.
Lochlan.
Nia didn’t think. She moved. Her boots barely made a sound as she crossed the pavement, closing the space between them. When she reached him, she didn’t hesitate, wrapping her arms tightly around Lochlan’s middle and pulling him close.
The scent of him hit her first—fresh, clean, unmistakably him—as she buried her face against his chest, letting herself breathe him in. Her hands gripped the worn fabric of his jacket, anchoring herself to him.
Lochlan’s arms came around her, his hands spreading across her back in a way that felt both protective and desperate. He leaned back just enough to catch her gaze, his honey-colored eyes scanning her face as though searching for reassurance.
Then he cupped her cheek, his fingers warm against her skin, and kissed her swiftly.
He tasted of toothpaste and exhaustion, the kind of weary relief that made her chest ache. His breath caught as he sighed against her lips, and she smiled.
“You’re here.”
“I’m here,” Lochlan replied, his voice low and rough.
Her smile widened against his lips, and she kissed him again, lingering this time, as if trying to convey all the things she couldn’t bring herself to say.
“I would have waited,” she said breathlessly, her words muffled against his chest. “But I didn’t know when—”
Lochlan let out a soft chuckle, the sound warm despite the weariness clinging to him. “My exit was a little dramatic,” he admitted. “I forgot my charger and couldn’t get one on the train.”
She leaned back, one brow arching. “And?”
He paused. “And I found nothing I went looking for,” he said softly. “But discovered everything I needed to.”
She searched his face for answers.
“Later.” He shook his head, a small, rueful smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Now, why did you want me to meet you at Salt?”
“Work,” Nia replied, her grin wide and unapologetic.
She turned on her heel and led him toward the club door without waiting for his reaction. Lochlan followed, his steps quickening to match hers. The stairs down were narrow and dimly lit, the soft glow of multicolored lights and the faint thrum of bass vibrating up from below.
Inside the club, the air was balmy and alive with the rhythm of slow, sensual music.
Couples moved together on the dance floor, their bodies swaying as if drawn by invisible strings.
Pressed up and along the walls, pairs kissed and whispered in low voices, their laughter mingling with the pulsing beat.
On stages at either end of the room, dancers moved with hypnotic ease, their silhouettes fluid in the low light.
Nia let her eyes flicker to Lochlan, watching his reaction.
His gaze swept over the room, taking it all in—the dimly lit bar, the haze of smoke curling in the air, the charged hum of desire.
It wasn’t always this spicy. Some nights, it was just a dive bar.
Others, an open mic night. But tonight, there was something in the air that made people open to anything.
Maybe a love witch had wandered in. Or a nymph, letting their magic curl through the room.
“Never been here before?” she asked, her tone teasing, though she couldn’t quite mask her curiosity.
He shook his head, his expression unreadable.
A twinge of guilt struck her, sharp and unexpected. She stepped closer, touching his arm lightly. “Hey, I’m sorry,” she said, her voice softening. “I should’ve asked… or explained. We can leave if you want.”
Lochlan turned to her, his gaze steady, and the faintest smile curved his lips. “No,” he said, his voice firm. “You asked me to come for a reason. Let me get my bearings.”
Nia studied him for a moment, searching for any hint of unease, but she saw only calm determination.
“Alright.” She nodded toward a table, her grin returning. “Let’s sit and get a drink.”